For Better
by Of Sandwiches and Sea-Monsters
Summary: "Maybe there won't be marriage... maybe there won't be sex... but, by God, there'll be dancing." Well, this story has all three! Matthew/Mary. By OrangeShipper & Silvestria. Chapter 3: Epilogue; the morning after - serious smut alert!
1. Chapter 1

_A/N: Hello and welcome to OrangeShipper and Silvestria's first (published) collaborative effort! Obviously we're jumping straight in at the deep end by writing Matthew and Mary's wedding night. This chapter is only moderately salacious though so Silvestria can put off wearing a paper bag over her head for the moment at any rate._

_We should probably mention a little about how this story was written. We RPed it over instant messenger with OrangeShipper writing Matthew and Silvestria Mary. This means that the POV chops and changes more often than it probably would if we were each of us writing individually though we have tried to smooth it out in the editing process._

_Frankly, the setting of this story isn't remotely important (plot, what plot?) but we envisage it taking place in the "Fluffiverse" we share. Silvestria's __While the Paint Dries__ and OrangeShipper's __To Prove a Woman Wrong__ may therefore be counted as sequels to this story!_

_Hope you enjoy and leave a review if you do, especially considering we are losing the reviews we would naturally give each other! :)_

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><p>Squinting slightly in the bright sunshine, Matthew stepped out of the church. His face lit by an infectious grin, he happily clutched Mary's hand.<p>

"I'm afraid there's no going back now, my love!" His voice was light and filled with irrepressible joy. "We are married!" He could hardly believe that she was at last his wife.

Mary was in a complete daze and she clutched his hand tightly more from nerves than from anything else. She glanced quickly at him and said, "So it seems!"

He tugged her gently around to face him, clasping her hands between them. Her wedding ring glinted in the sunlight, and he found himself smiling down at it. Suddenly, a surge of happiness swept over him and he leant forwards, kissing her sweetly. Though he already knew the answer, he could not resist asking her anyway.

"And are you quite happy?"

Her hands trembled in his and she replied, half smiling, "How can you ask me that?" She nodded to the church gate. "We shouldn't keep Branson waiting!"

Allowing his eyes to glance over her in affection, he took her hand and smoothly folded her arm through his.

"Of course, we mustn't." He led her to the car, carefully helping her in. "After you, darling!"

Mary got into the car, leaning on Matthew's hand, smiling at Branson as he offered his congratulations. Matthew followed her swiftly in. She tucked her dress around her and leaned back as car started, suddenly alone, she realised, with her _husband_! She felt nervous and started to pick slightly at her veil.

Matthew gave her hand an affectionate squeeze, slight nervousness creeping through him as he glanced over at her. "Alone at last. It has been such a hectic morning; I must say it is a blessed relief to see you, and you alone, for a time!" A smile spread across his face, and he beamed at her. "You know, you look breathtakingly beautiful, Mary. More so than usual, though that is barely possible!"

At his words, she looked at him properly and blushed. "Thank you..." She briefly touched his cheek. "You had better make the most of it for we shall not be alone much longer! I am afraid you must prepare for not being left alone at all for a very long time now." She lowered her voice. "There are people here whom I am apparently related to, but I have never heard of them!"

"I rather think I am a stranger to most of our guests! You will have to guide me, I'm afraid. I may have to stay close to your side for you to introduce me to as many as you can!" He raised his eyebrows, really not minding that at all.

Mary smiled slyly. "Very well. I shall do my best, but do not, I beg you, demand names from me if I do not volunteer them at first! And..." She looked slightly mischievous. "Perhaps we had better arrange some kind of signal if we are confronted with a very boring guest so that we might escape as quickly as possible!"

"I think that is a very wise idea." Leaning across, he whispered conspiratorially in her ear. "You know, I think I would prefer it infinitely if we could simply do away with them all. But do not tell your parents that!" As he leant away again, he could not resist a swift kiss to her cheek.

"You know, Matthew, I need not tell my parents anything now! Would you mind terribly if I told you instead when I have dreadfully improper thoughts like that?" She raised her eyebrows and looked mock-seriously at him.

Matthew's eyes darkened a fraction as he replied, "I don't think I would mind that at all, Mary. You may tell me all the dreadfully improper thoughts that you like! I would be a poor husband if you felt you could not!"

She noticed his expression and blushed but remained defiant. "Very well." She glanced at Branson in the front and then leaned forward to whisper conspiratorially, "I also wish we might do away with the reception altogether!"

He blushed slightly, breathing shallowly as her breath tickled his ear. He turned to whisper back to her, his lips ever so lightly brushing against her. "Do you know, my darling, I wish quite the same thing. I think this bodes well for harmony in our marriage, do you not?"

His wife did not move away. "I'm not sure. It would be a shame if we thought the same about everything..."

"Hmm. I wonder if you think this would be a good idea as I do..." He raised his hand and gently tipped her chin, turning her face towards his, but a hairs breadth between them. His eyes met hers darkly for a moment before he daringly kissed her.

She briefly closed her eyes but pulled back almost immediately from the kiss, laying her hand on his chest to keep him away. She laughed very lightly. "I am not sure that Branson would think it a good idea, dearest!" She looked down at her hand on his heart and the ring on her hand and then back at him.

Matthew looked a little abashed, but did not really mind. "I suppose you're right, as ever!" He glanced down at her hand too, wondering if she could feel just how hard his heart was pounding. Looking back up, he smiled fondly. "I hope that this afternoon will be just as pleasant as the morning has been. I cannot imagine it should not be."

She kept her hand there where she could feel his heart beat for a second longer, then gently lowered it in a caress and held his hand again. She smiled gently and said drily, "If there is more wine and fewer prayers then it will probably be an improvement! We never did decide a signal, did we? I am afraid you distracted me." She looked at him archly.

"I apologise sincerely, of course, darling." His mischievous smile disagreed. "I shall distract you no further, I assure you!"

She raised an eyebrow at that. "I should hope not! In future you should be satisfied only with my undivided attention!" She smirked and then continued quite coolly, "I think a mention of your poor, deceased aunt Gertrude whenever the conversation is too awful should do it, don't you think?"

Matthew's eyebrow rose sharply. "Aunt Gertrude? Well, her story is very unfortunate..." He placed a slight emphasis on the word 'story', his eyes twinkling. "I may need some time to recover myself at the thought of it, you're right."

"You may borrow my handkerchief if necessary." Her lips twitched but she tried to stay serious even as her eyes smiled at him very fondly.

He lowered his head, wearing a respectful expression of sorrow as he squeezed her hand gently. "You're so thoughtful, my dear."

She squeezed his hand back. "I know how upset you were that she could not be here today..."

At this Branson who had been trying not to eavesdrop could not help himself and coughed uncontrollably.

Matthew flashed a smile in Branson's direction before looking back at Mary, the only crack in his serious expression being the sparkle in his eyes. "I am only thankful that I've had you to get me through this very difficult time, Mary. I know the pain will only become easier to bear, with you beside me now."

Mary also glanced at Branson very briefly and in doing so realised they are almost at the house. "I am glad that I have been of service to you. If there is any further way I can distract you from your pain, you must let me know!" She was barely managing not to snigger.

His lips twitched and he could not prevent a tiny snort. "I would not wish to trouble you, darling, of course! But I appreciate your offer, and would be glad of your distraction from any discomfort... Very glad of it!" Giving up the pretence entirely, he relented and grinned at her.

She just looked at him, feeling more relaxed than when she had first entered the car, then saw Branson opening the door behind Matthew and nodded in that direction.

"Maybe later, darling..." she murmured, pushing him slightly towards the door and finding her heart pounding at her daring.

It took him a long moment of staring in delighted shock before he remembered he needed to exit the car. He swiftly clambered out, taking Mary's hand to assist her. Distracting thoughts swirled through his mind and he gulped nervously.

She smiled mischievously at him as she got out of the car, smoothed her dress, and finally looked up at the house - no longer home. They went in, where Carson was waiting to congratulate them. He ushered them into the drawing room and then left them alone to await all the other guests who had to walk from the church.

Matthew's eyes swept over the impressive piles of gifts and china arrayed on the table in the drawing room. "Your relatives are generous indeed, Mary! I'm not sure all this will fit into our rather more modest abode!" He was suddenly struck by the thought of sharing a home with her, and clasped her hand gently with a smile.

"Indeed!" She looked round the piles rather apprehensively. "We shall simply have to dedicate several days to sorting out and putting it away. I dare say there will be quite a few replicas!"

"Undoubtedly." His eyes followed hers around the room, before his gaze fixed warmly on her once more. "There'll be plenty of time for that, of course."

"Oh yes..." As she looked back at him she felt overcome by sudden affection towards him and added casually, "I don't suppose we need to start until Monday at the earliest, don't you think?"

Breathing suddenly a little shallower, his eyes flickered across her face. "I think it would be quite unnecessary to start before then." His voice had lowered to a hoarse whisper.

She stepped towards him, eyes shining and brushed one hand against his neck, kissing him softly. She pulled back a little. "Quite unnecessary, my husband." She blushed and smiled slightly.

He let his eyes drift closed as she kissed him, unconsciously clutching her hand a little tighter. He whispered, "I'm glad you agree, my darling wife..." A pleasurable tingle swept through him at being able to call her his wife. Feeling suddenly nervous, he stepped back a fraction. "Of course it will take some time to become used to each other... You never know what irritating habits of mine you may have to put up with now!"

Mary stared at him in surprise and then laughed softly and stepped forward again. "I think I have discovered one now! If you must speak of your faults at this point then we shall soon get onto mine and though you know the worst, I fancy you will discover many more!"

A smile of relief spread across his face, pleased that she did not seem to be put off at all. "My darling, I think they should only cause me to love you more. I can't help but find your little irritances to be endearing!"

She loved him very much at that moment however irritating he might be being. "I think my entire family is grateful that you have such unnatural feelings about them! I wonder if you shall feel the same in twenty years time!" She suddenly drew in a breath at the thought of still being married to Matthew in twenty years time.

His smile spread a little wider as he gazed fondly at her. Reaching up, he touched her cheek tenderly. "I can't imagine that I would not, I assure you." He leaned forwards and softly kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered closed as she leaned into the kiss and responded very gently, almost tentatively but with great affection.

A small thrill raced through him as he felt her respond. He gently took her face in both hands, holding her lovingly to him, before whispering against her lips. "I love you, you know. Very, very much, Mary."

She smiled against his lips, not wanting to spoil the moment with further words and kissed him again, wrapping her arms around his neck. Matthew kissed her a little more firmly, slipping a hand around her waist. Rubbing her back in affection, he felt quite delirious at the thought that he was now perfectly allowed to do this whenever he wished. Mary sighed, tilting her head to deepen the kiss but without any feeling of haste. For the first time that day she felt absolutely no hurry or anxiety, a strange thing when the rest of the family would be back so soon – but she did not pursue such an analytical train of thought. As she deepened the kiss, Matthew felt a delightful tingle sweep through him, and felt very, very glad that she was his wife. Smiling, he held her a little more tightly against him and relished the warm feel of her body. As she was drawn closer to him, she started to respond with more desire and slid one hand up to tangle in his hair, her head starting to swim a little. A sigh of pleasure escaped his lips, as he felt her hand in his hair, kissing her back very thoroughly indeed. His other hand slipped round to the back of her neck, holding her tightly against him. She rose onto tiptoe and pressed herself against him, moving her free hand down from his neck to clutch at his shoulder.

He almost swayed back as she leaned further into him, feeling lightheaded with desire. Reluctantly, he pulled back a moment, holding her face very tenderly still only a fraction away from his.

"Darling, I think your family might be joining us soon... Unless they are walking very slowly!" He sincerely hoped that they were. He suddenly kissed the tip of her nose tenderly, feeling strangely unsatisfied when his lips weren't touching her at all.

Mary opened her eyes when he pulled away and then closed them again in disappointment when he spoke. She sighed and pulled away from him completely though reluctantly for she did not trust herself in his arms. She still retained one of his hands though.

"Oh, Granny is always very quick to arrive when she is least wanted!" she replied, her languid, thoroughly-kissed smile belying the humour of her words. "But the reception won't last for ever and then we shall be alone." Her eyes flashed briefly and then she swallowed and walked away to check her reflection in the mirror and recover some of her poise.

His heart beat a little faster at her intimation, a pulse of desire making him gasp slightly. Watching her walk away, he resisted the urge to reach out to her again. "I'm sure your grandmother is also slow to leave in the same situation! We shall have to make sure she is well fed and sent off happily. Maybe some dancing would tire her out." He couldn't prevent a grin at the thought of cousin Violet dancing, certain he would never see it.

Mary grinned at him (still rather languidly) in the mirror as she patted a few strands of escaped hair back under her veil. "She gives us to understand she was a beautiful dancer in her youth. Of course, they were probably still country dancing then... Where is your mother staying tonight, Matthew? Here, or did Papa manage to persuade Granny? I was not paying attention."

Matthew chuckled softly. "Can you imagine my mother taking up residence with your grandmother, even for one night alone? I think your father realised the better option for all concerned would be for Mother to stay here, and she quite agreed. I dread to consider the alternative!"

"Indeed! That is definitely for the better." She glanced back at him in the mirror again. "I should have lain awake all night thinking about them otherwise!"

Looking intently at her in the mirror, he stood behind her, almost but not quite touching. He willed himself not to look away. "That would never do, my dear. We should have had to take your mind off it, somehow."

Mary met his eye with a look of slight alarm, suddenly wondering if she had gone too far, her heart pounding once more. "I can't think how!" She started fiddling needlessly with her veil, looking down to cover her embarrassment.

Matthew felt equally alarmed at the sentiment expressed by his own words, and desperately tried to quash the images they'd conjured. He tried, rather pathetically, to lighten the tone. "Maybe I could find you a bedtime story; reading always takes one's mind off things!" He smiled weakly at his poor excuse for a joke.

She turned around suddenly to find that, yes, he was standing _right_ behind her, causing her to step back awkwardly onto the fender of the fireplace. She glared at him.

"What were you thinking of, dearest? A charming fairy tale perhaps? There are many stories I believe in which terribly bad things happen to the groom on his wedding night!" She rolled her eyes.

He grinned at her mockery. "Well, darling, perhaps you might have a better suggestion?" Placing his hands on her upper arms, he ran them softly up and down before pulling her gently towards him.

She stepped down from the fender and back into his arms, shivering slightly, and smiling again. "I think you should ask me later..."

Before he could reply she suddenly became aware of very loud voices approaching outside the door and she pulled back from the kiss she was going to give him.

Smiling regretfully, Matthew stepped back to face the door, preparing himself to be assaulted by many congratulatory relatives. He kept hold of Mary's hand a moment longer, giving it a conspiratorial squeeze. They were ready to face them together.

Mary breathed in and turned so they were standing in front of the fireplace. She tucked her hand into his arm and looked up at him. "Ready? - And try to be nice to Great-Aunt Elizabeth. You can always abuse her to me afterwards!"

"Would I be anything but?" Patting her hand fondly, he stared ahead with a fixed smile. "Just remember, darling, about my poor aunt Gertrude!"

She had just time to reply piously, "Poor aunt Gertrude!" before the door opened to display them to their relatives with expressions that were positively funereal.

He chuckled beside her. "Do you know, I think we might have some fun after all!"

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><p>There had been congratulations, handshaking, the receiving of gifts, lunch and tea as well and at some point Mary had disappeared for half an hour to change out of her wedding dress. The whole thing had simply gone on and on.<p>

It was already evening when after several hours of background, incidental music, the string quartet began to play a waltz. Mary had been telling her grandmother and her great-aunt Elizabeth all about aunt Gertrude's final illness, death and funeral arrangements for at least ten minutes and was getting rather desperate. Out of the corner of her eye she could see that aunt Rosamund had cornered her husband.

"Do you know, I am not certain precisely what the doctor _did_ think about it!" cried Mary. "Will you excuse me if I check with Matthew?" She beamed charmingly and escaped without another word, fooling neither of her relatives. She felt rather pleased with herself anyway.

Feeling really quite intimidated, Matthew stammered desperately to Rosamund. "Well, yes, I suppose it has all worked out rather well, but –"

Mary came up behind him and put her hand on his arm. "Excuse me, aunt Rosamund! I do hope I am not interrupting anything!"

He turned to give Mary a relieved grin. "Not at all, dear! Your dear aunt Rosamund was simply commenting on how tidy our marriage is. I think we might all be agreed on that." He frowned gently, having only spoken to be polite. Glancing towards the string quartet, he sensed an opportunity. "Lady Rosamund, would you mind terribly excusing us?" He raised his eyebrows imploringly at her. "I would quite like to offer my wife a dance, if you would not object?" Rosamund looked peeved, but did not object. Matthew smiled gratefully, turning to Mary and taking her hand. "And, of course, so long as you would not object, Mary?"

Of course she did not. In fact, she was glad Matthew asked her to dance before she could make any acidic comments about how much tidier it would be when her father died and he became earl and wasn't she looking forward to that too? It did not hurt that she also felt her heart skip a beat when he called her wife. She would not have refused him anything.

She clasped his hand and met his eye. "I do not object, Matthew."

Matthew grinned happily, a warm glow spreading through him from her acceptance, and the more general realisation that they were actually married. It kept occurring to him, suddenly and pleasantly. "Shall we?"

Mary allowed him to lead her in the direction of a slightly cleared space in the centre of the room, feeling a strange thankfulness that she never had to dance with anyone she didn't want to again.

Taking a deep breath, Matthew pulled Mary around to face him, slipping his free arm around her waist in one easy movement. He pulled her closely against him, until she was so close that their cheeks almost touched. Confidently, he pressed forwards a little with his leg until he felt her respond, and started to slowly turn about the floor. Mary rested her hand lightly on his shoulder, hardly touching him at all and danced smoothly in response to his lead, feeling his hair tickle her cheek but not quite touch it. Only her right hand felt firm in his. Suddenly she felt oddly like crying and she applied a bit more pressure to his shoulder. Smiling, he turned his head to press a swift kiss to her cheek. He raised his hand from her waist slightly higher up her back, rubbing his thumb comfortingly in a small gesture of affection.

She felt even more like crying at this and wished somehow that the reception could be over. Then she felt confused because she shouldn't feel sad today of all days! She swallowed and murmured very softly in his ear, "I never thought - when I thought about my wedding which, of course I did very often - I never thought that I would ever marry anybody I loved!" She blinked hard.

Matthew felt an odd stab of sadness, feeling sorry that she had once thought she would not have love in her marriage. "Oh Mary..." His embrace tightened a little, reassuringly. "I'm so glad that you have!"

She gently leaned her head against his for a moment and replied still in a very low voice, "So am I!" She paused, finding it easier not looking at him, then continued, "I hope - I hope I can make you happy. I shall try! But you know me, Matthew, I'm not very good at thinking about other people."

He turned his head slightly towards hers, still leaning against her but feeling somehow even closer. He whispered softly in her ear, "Mary darling, you make me happier than I ever imagined I could be. Don't ever worry that you should not!"

She smiled tremulously and sighed, her breath tickling his cheek. "I'm afraid I shall never not worry but-" She got into a slight muddle of double negatives here. "Dearest Matthew, I love you very much, and that is all you need to remember!"

Chuckling fondly, he pressed another kiss to her cheek, this one lingering a moment longer. "I think it will be very easy for me to, Mary." He pulled back slightly, just enough to meet her eyes, and spoke seriously. "And I hope that I should make you happy - I fear I have significantly fewer charms than you, my dear!"

She blinked quickly as he looked at her, not wanting him to catch sight of the tears that shone unfallen in her eyes. "I have never found you lacking in charm! Well, not recently anyway!" she added, tilting her head in consideration.

He dipped his head with a smile. "Yes, well, I don't think I need a reminder of your initial considerations of me! I have never blamed you for it, though. And I entirely did not help myself." He frowned as he remembered his dreadfully priggish behaviour on his arrival, before looking back up at her. "I am simply glad that your opinion has not remained such!"

She blushed. "I loved you a lot earlier than you think I did, Matthew! And I think I loved you before I liked you!" She looked down shyly. "How could I not when you were the only man I ever met who actually bothered to talk to me!"

This was not precisely what she meant but it would have to do. Her emotions were making it hard for her to think as clearly as she wished.

Smiling wryly at her, he guided her into a brief spin in the corner as he thought. "I fear you left me little option but to talk to you - I had to defend myself against your accusations against my character! A sorry man I would have been if I had kept silent!" He squeezed her hand to indicate his lack of seriousness, before adding quietly, "Anyway - I was very glad of the excuse to talk to you - you had me under a spell from the moment I saw you. I think I might have loved you from then!"

Mary's lips twitched and she felt glad that her moment of weakness had passed.

"Love at first sight? Really, Matthew, how dreadfully common!" She smiled at him to show she was teasing.

"Common it may have been of me, but strangely I find myself unable to care!" He grinned at her teasing. "I hope you should not think less of me for it!" Though he knew she didn't really, he quite liked to be reminded sometimes.

"I shall endeavour to overlook it!"

"I am glad to hear it!" As the music built slightly, they reached another corner. Matthew raised an eyebrow mischievously, guiding her into a pleasantly dizzying series of spins down the floor.

She laughed into his shoulder and was forced to clutch him tighter as he spun her to a smatter of laughter and applause. As the spins ended, she pulled back and looked at him suddenly seriously. "You make me dizzy, Matthew!" She smiled ruefully at the dreadful pun, but did not care.

Grinning in exhilaration, Matthew relaxed into a calmer waltz around the room, catching his breath back. He met Mary's eyes, his own shining with deep affection, shaking his head despairingly at her terrible pun. "I hope you find yourself soon recovered, darling! I would hate to be the source of any discomfort to you."

"I cannot imagine you ever could be. There, I am feeling better already! Though-" Her expression softened. "I expect I will always feel a little dizzy around you!"

"Then I'm afraid we may often have to walk arm in arm, my dear, or we may both lose our balance if the condition persists!" He smiled fondly, wishing he would stop being so saccharine but could not quite seem to help it.

She liked that idea. "I can think of worse ways to go through life than by your side..." She trailed off wistfully and became aware that they were hardly dancing any more.

Feeling almost dazed, Matthew smiled at her. "I can think of few better." He shuffled almost to a standstill, altogether too engrossed in feeling in love and gazing contentedly at his very darling wife to concentrate on dancing any more. Mary gazed at him just as intensely and adoringly, displaying her feelings openly in the way she had only just started being able to do as the music came to an end.

How long they might have remained there locked together is anyone's guess if great-aunt Elizabeth had not announced in the loud tones of the very deaf, "Well, I don't suppose you need to be talking all that claptrap about tidiness now! It's quite obvious why they're married and the sooner they're allowed to leave the better for the rest of us!"

Matthew dropped his head onto Mary's shoulder, blushing furiously.

She also blushed but, knowing her great-aunt, was more overcome with the desire to giggle uncontrollably especially as her father, equally embarrassed, tried to calm his aunt down. She gently stroked Matthew's hair once on the side not visible to the rest of the room and then pushed him away slightly. She met her mother's eye across the room, who also looked as if she was trying not to laugh.

"Perhaps Lady Elizabeth is right," said the countess diplomatically. "It is getting very late! Mary, Matthew, you have been accepting congratulations for many hours now and you must be getting tired."

Mary continued trying not to snigger.

Though Matthew had recovered enough to raise his head, he continued to open and close his mouth ineffectually with no words coming out, wishing fervently that everyone would disappear.

Realising his mother-in law was awaiting a response, he eventually stammered, "Well, quite so, cousin Cora, but..." before trailing off pathetically. He certainly didn't want to seem too keen, with everyone staring at them!

By this point his wife was just about keeping it together, and was able to say, "Yes, Mama is right. I at least am very tired!" She pinched Matthew's hand very hard.

He jumped slightly, but squeezed her hand back. "Yes, and I'm sure you shall be wanting your house to yourself again after we have dominated it so this afternoon!" He blushed, still feeling very, very uncomfortable, desperately trying to avoid looking at his mother, or Robert, or Violet. Or anyone.

"Really, Matthew," said the earl, "We really do not mind when the occasion is such a joyous one."

"Perhaps Branson could be ordered to bring the car around?" suggested his wife.

At this point Lady Rosamund returned to room, nobody having noticed she had left. "I ordered it five minutes ago!"

"It was a truly lovely reception," said Mary, stepping forward, much more composedly. "Thank you all so much."

Nodding gratefully, Matthew addressed Lord and Lady Grantham. "Really, we cannot thank you enough. It has been a beautiful day."

Before he could continue, Carson came in to announce the arrival of the car.

Looking at Mary, Matthew squeezed her hand and gave a small, nervous smile. "Are you ready, darling?"

She gave him a small, private smile and nodded.

Despite everyone present being very keen for the bride and groom to leave as quickly as possible, it nevertheless took a long time for them to say a proper goodbye to all the guests. Finally, however, it was over.

Waving awkwardly to the assembled guests, Matthew gave a grateful nod to Robert and Cora before taking Mary's hand through his arm and leading her out to the car.

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><p><em>AN: The rating will be going up in the second part, so do add the story to Author Alert or keep a sharp look out for it!_


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much, everyone, for your reviews! We really appreciate them all and will try to respond individually to this chapter if you choose to review this as well (*hint hint*), once we've worked out how two people can reply to reviews at the same time!_

_Anyway, here is part two. In the interest of not getting flamed by Edwardian historians, we should point out that the exact details of undergarments do not interest us remotely. Nor does the historical probability of Matthew actually giving all his servants the night off. We don't care. Neither should you! And we hope it lives up to your expectations!_

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><p>During the drive back to the cottage Mary was quiet, content to hold her husband's hand in near silence, more upset than she had expected to be at parting from her family, even if only temporarily. She was also nervous now they were <em>going home<em> for the first time and of what was inevitably to come. The shift from being in company to being completely alone seemed very great.

Matthew spent the journey occasionally squeezing Mary's hand, as much to reassure himself as to comfort her. It felt very odd for her to be coming home with him, but definitely pleasantly so.

He was quite relieved to arrive at Crawley House. Giving Branson a nod as they stepped out of the car, he quietly opened the front door and waited for Mary to join him. She got out of the car and looked up at her new home feeling very unsure before remembering to thank Branson before he drove off and they were on their own. She looked back at the house and then smiled tremulously at Matthew.

Smiling fondly back, his eyes lit up. "I would say 'after you', darling, but..." Without warning he leant down, slipped an arm under her shoulders and swept her up into his arms. "I believe it is traditional for me to carry you into your marital home!" He kissed her cheek affectionately before stepping awkwardly through the door, which was definitely slightly too small for the task.

Mary gasped and clutched awkwardly at his shoulder. As he carried her in, her foot got briefly caught on the door and she started laughing silently into his shoulder, thankful for the unexpected ice-breaker and strangely touched by the traditional, romantic gesture, though it was the kind of thing at which she would normally have scoffed.

Matthew's panic ceased as he realised she was laughing at the stumble, and he started to chuckle himself. "Sorry, my dear. It seems this is rather a clumsy way to enter a house; perhaps we had better stick to more traditional methods in future!" Still holding her in his arms, he kissed her softly before pulling back and smiling.

She smiled back. "I don't know... Perhaps you could remind me every once in a while!" She raised her eyebrows expectantly. "You are allowed to put me down now, you know, dearest."

A brief blush of embarrassment lit his cheeks. "I know perfectly well that I am allowed to, darling. What if I was simply enjoying it and wanted to hold you a little longer?" He pulled an expression of mock offence, before setting her down carefully, smoothly moving his hand from her shoulders to take hers. Shivering, he realised the door was still open. He stepped behind her to close it while Mary removed her coat and hat; then turned back, placing an arm around her waist. Deciding it felt very comfortable, he rubbed her upper arm softly with his other hand and kissed her cheek.

Mary leaned against him and wrapped her arm over his. She remained silent for a moment, feeling comfortable yet slightly odd standing in the hallway like this, then said, "Matthew... what should I do?" She was only half teasing. "Should I offer you a cup of tea?" She shifted round so that she was facing him. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

His breath caught suddenly as she turned around against him, his mind suddenly blanking. "If you would like some, darling!" Did _she_ want tea? He decided to agree, just in case. "I think it would provide a nice respite to reflect on the day. It has been terribly busy..." It also occurred to him that it might settle his nerves somewhat.

Mary was not at all sure she wanted tea but decided that this would be a good moment to start acting the obedient wife and hostess of her own home, so she smiled and replied, "Of course it would be. I'll ring for..." She frowned as she stepped away towards the drawing room door. "Is anyone here?"

Matthew frowned. "I'm not sure anyone is. I believe I gave the whole staff the evening off... Well. If you should like tea, I am perfectly capable of making some myself, if you wish?" He really didn't know what to do.

Her hand was still poised on bell. "We're alone?" This was a new experience for her, being completely alone with no servants. She shivered suddenly in the dark, and added more faintly, "Yes, by all means. The -the kitchen?"

"I think that might be a good place to start!" he smiled reassuringly. "I could always telephone up for Molesley to return, if you'd rather?" Suddenly realising it was a bit dark, he flicked the lights on.

Mary blinked in the sudden light and moved more decisively along the corridor, turning back to reply, "Oh no, I wouldn't want him to be deprived of his evening off. Unless you wanted him for something?"

Then she suddenly realised she was not sure where the kitchen was and felt rather silly.

He chuckled softly at her hesitation. "It's this way, darling". Taking her hand, he led her into the kitchen, flicking the light on and moving to the stove to set the water to boil. Suddenly, he came over very warm – whether from the stove or the fact that he was alone with his wife, he wasn't sure - and shrugged his jacket off, folding it onto the table.

As Matthew made the tea, Mary stood awkwardly to one side, watching rather fascinated by the whole process. She let her eyes flick over him as he took off his jacket, not sure she had seen him without it – or at least, not very often.

Swiftly rolling up his shirt sleeves, he finished off the tea, wiping his forehead from the heat of the stove. He set all the silverware properly out on the kitchen table, placing a teacup in front of Mary. "You know, I think I have a new appreciation for Mrs Bird. My office is stuffy enough but this is ridiculous!" He blew out a nervous breath.

Mary also found herself growing warm but more at the appealing sight of Matthew with his sleeves rolled up looking hot and flustered. She swallowed, her eyes darting all over him and the kitchen and the tea service. "Yes, it is very warm!" She had nothing to take off that was decent so peeled off her gloves delicately and sat down gingerly at the kitchen table.

"Shall I pour?" she asked, hating herself for being so indecisive. She really did not want any tea.

"If you like!" He smiled appreciatively at her.

She poured them both tea with a slightly trembling hand and cradled her own cup taking a small sip as it was too hot. The kitchen was so warm – why on earth were they drinking tea of all things anyway! She smiled a little desperately. "Do you normally drink tea this late at night or is this a special occasion? I am only trying to learn your habits, you know!"

Matthew frowned gently. "I thought you wanted tea!" He shrugged a little. "I suppose it depends. Sometimes if I have some work to finish late, then I will take some to keep me going. Dear old Molesley is quite understanding of that. And I suppose that this is rather a special occasion, don't you?" Smiling weakly, he took a sip, peering up as his hair flopped over his forehead a little.

Mary frowned slightly and bit her lip. "I suppose it is!"

She could not see anything particularly celebratory about drinking tea in the kitchen and was getting quite annoyed. Really, Matthew seemed far more interested in his tea than in her! She was not quite sure why considering his behaviour the rest of the day. Nevertheless, she continued to sip the tea to at least give the appearance of enjoying it for her husband's sake.

Raising her eyes, she noticed his hair flopping over his forehead and automatically reached out, letting her hand hover over the table, unsure. Then she proceeded, gently pushing it back and quickly dropping her hand, looking back down into her cup of stupid tea.

Matthew blinked in surprise, quite pleasantly taken aback by her gesture. Slowly, he reached his hand across the table and took hers, forgetting about his tea. He looked at her properly, and was quite dramatically reminded of her beauty, and suddenly couldn't think why on earth he was sitting there drinking tea on their wedding night. He raised himself slightly, enough to lean towards her across the table. Pulling her up gently by the hand, he gazed very intently into her eyes.

He touched her cheek lightly with his other hand, then pulled her towards him into a soft, tender kiss. She kissed him back briefly and then pulled away, uncomfortable in this half-sitting, half-standing position.

"Your tea is getting cold!" she accused him defensively. Her heart was pounding a little too much for such a gentle kiss.

His eyes not leaving hers, he held onto her awkwardly still. "I don't care about the tea, Mary. Why would I want to bother myself with tea when my beautiful wife is sitting across from me?" He murmured deeply, "I am quite a stupid man, I think." Swiftly, he walked around the table and pulled her more fiercely to him, kissing her very decidedly.

It was about time. Mary was such a bundle of nerves that she immediately fell trembling against him, her arms going round his neck as she responded with almost panicky breathlessness.

He kissed her again almost desperately, berating himself for thinking of stupid tea when he could have been doing this. Pressing her back against the table, his hands slid possessively around her waist. She tightened her arms round his neck and continued to kiss him but found her breath coming too short, with nerves making her heart flutter too much. She could hardly bear it and pulled away enough to look at him wildly from dark eyes. "I - I - Matthew, I -" Her fingers roamed over his face but she did not know what to say.

Pulling back with ragged breaths he took a few moment's respite, resting his forehead against hers, eyes shut, feeling too overwhelmed to make any immediate response. He whispered, "Hush, darling. I think any words would be superfluous and rather inadequate just now. It doesn't seem enough to say that I love you, for you know that well enough already."

Mary continued to smooth his hair away from his face almost compulsively as she caught her breath. "I - I know you do, only I-" She swallowed, feeling his hands tighten on her waist. "Matthew dearest -" She shifted back against the table and knocked over the milk jug. Gasping in shock, her heart pounding all over again, she jumped forward, forcing him backwards, finding herself even closer in his arms.

Matthew watched the milk jug from the corner of his eye, not caring about it in the slightest. Smiling affectionately, he wrapped his arms further around her to hold her more tightly. "Yes, my darling?"

Mary looked wildly round the strange, unfamiliar kitchen to see if she was liable to be attacked by any more pieces of crockery and eventually back at him, trying to be calmed by the way he was holding her and looking at her but for once it was failing and she felt almost trapped.

"I - I only wanted to say that – that-" She opened and shut her mouth. "Now we're alone, I can't be as - as you might wish. It was easier before and I'm sorry! But I wish we had never come in here!" She softened slightly as she continued, "I didn't really want tea, Matthew." She could feel that his arms were bare round her waist and the knowledge distracted her again.

A slight frown crossed Matthew's face before he broke into a chuckle. "Mary... Do you really think I would rather have been drinking tea, than - than –" He trailed off, unable to finish the thought. "I do not 'wish' that you would meekly do as you think I would want you to do. I would far rather wish that you would be honest with me and tell me what you would really rather do, rather than suggest things you think I might!" He frowned, having confused himself quite effectively.

Mary frowned back equally confused. "If I do that then it is only because I want to make you happy and I know that is my role... But if you want to know what I want now - then I do not want to spend another minute in this kitchen!" She was surprised at her firmness and almost smiled, still anxious.

Chuckling at her hesitance, he kissed her fondly. "Alright, dearest. We'll leave the kitchen. And where would you rather be?" His smile dropped, paling suddenly as he panicked about her answer.

She looked at him a long time, calming herself. Finally she said quietly, "I don't know this house very well, Matthew." She took a deep breath and her eyed flashed at him, willing him to understand. "I shall follow you."

He licked his lips nervously, eyes flashing darkly up and down her as the implication of her words sank in. Taking a deep breath, his voice lowered to a soft whisper. "Alright, then." He took her hand and, very carefully avoiding her gaze, led her upstairs. Finally, he stopped outside his bedroom door. Taking both her hands in his, rubbing his right thumb absently over her wedding ring, he looked very seriously at her. "Mary –" He didn't quite know what to say, the moment seemed too tremendous. "I... I love you. So very, very much. I'm quite perfectly happy, and I hope that you are too."

Her eyes flicked to the solid door behind him then back to his face. She suddenly smiled at his seriousness and replied, as if it were enough, "I am with you."

She let the smile fade and leaned forward to kiss him very softly. A deep sigh of contentment left Matthew as she kissed him. His hands reached up to caress her face, before slipping behind to the back of her head. He allowed his hands to tangle in her hair as he had long dreamed of doing. As his fingers found a multitude of hairpins holding it precisely in place, he carefully pulled them out until her hair tumbled around her shoulders. He pulled back a moment to look at her. As he'd never seen her with hair even slightly down before, he found himself utterly entranced. Though he knew he had loosened it very inadequately, he still thought it the most beautiful sight he'd ever seen.

Mary found the feel of Matthew's fingers tangled in her hair strangely alluring and shivered. She found his expression as he looked at her more so. She took his hands again and glanced down, noticing the soft hairs on his arm, and ran her fingers gently over them. After a moment she bit her lip and looked back up at him from underneath a cloud of hair, saying softly, "Open the door, Matthew!"

He shivered at the light touch on his arms. Nodding silently, he softly pushed open the door and stepped inside, pulling her gently in after him. As soon as they were inside, he took her into his arms and gave her a soft, lingering kiss.

The room was too dark to see anything which Mary was glad about as it could not therefore remind her of the last time she had been in a bedroom with a man. She felt reassured by the darkness and kept her hands on Matthew's lower arms as she rather liked that. She kissed him softly back. Wrapping his arms around her, Matthew deepened the kiss, growing more passionate as he felt her respond. She slid her arms up round his neck again and sighed into his mouth, trying to forget.

Matthew focussed purely on the delicious sensation of her against him, not thinking about anything else. Giving a low murmur of contentment, his hands slowly crept down her side to her hips, barely able to breathe. He pulled back to look at her again, his eyes clouded with passion, before he softly trailed kisses down her neck.

Mary drew in a breath sharply and tilted her head as he kissed her neck, his breath tickling her skin and making the loose hair flutter. She moved her hands down his back, caressing very gently, hardly knowing what she was doing, and feeling rather unsteady.

After an eternally long moment he stepped away, very tenderly turning her around and wrapping one arm around her waist from behind. His other hand gently swept her hair out of the way then curled possessively over her shoulder, giving his lips sweet access to the back of her neck. In response, she dipped her head, shivering slightly as the kisses on the back of her neck sent shoots of heat all through her. She clasped his arm round her waist very tightly and sucked in a breath. "Oh..."

Matthew felt a shiver run through him at her soft exclamation, and he pressed his kisses a little more passionately, allowing his teeth to softly graze her skin. He clutched her a little more tightly around the waist, while his free hand tentatively played with the clasp of her dress, though he didn't quite dare do anything just yet. Mary moaned again, eyes fluttering shut almost in pain and she pressed herself back against him trying to stay upright, her ability for rational thought thankfully entirely evaporated. He sighed against her skin, not aware of anything else at all. His lips grazed over her ear, along her shoulder and to the back of her neck as he finally released the clasp and moved down to the next. She became aware of his fingers against her skin though she was not really sure what he was doing, and she shivered at his touch. Gradually, he worked his way down, before tentatively edging the soft fabric off her shoulder. His eyes glazed over as his lips worked upon the soft, creamy skin revealed beneath.

Mary was suddenly aware that he had unclipped her dress and froze. Then she prized her hands away from his arm to let the dress fall to the floor and shivered again as she stood in her corset and drawers with her head still hanging towards the floor and her hair spread out on either side.

Matthew shuddered delightfully at the exposure of her skin, shimmering softly in the moonlight through the window. He pulled her around to face him again, his eyes roving over her in wonder. "Oh Mary..."

A soft breath carried her name through his lips before he gently pulled her to him for a tender, lengthy kiss, his hands tangling in her hair again. Mary cupped his face in her hands and kissed him back more thoroughly and freely than ever before, fingers carressing his cheek. She pushed herself more closely against him, standing a little on tiptoe, relishing the feel of his body so close to her own. Unable to think or breathe properly, Matthew swayed a little as he threw every fibre of himself into kissing her, moving from her lips to her cheeks to her neck and back again. As he moved against her she clutched him closer to stay up right herself but found herself buckling against him, weak at the knees. Wildly, she kissed whatever part of his face or neck was available eventually finding a convenient spot on the join of his neck and shoulder and letting her lips linger there. He moaned quietly as her lips found his neck, briefly pausing in his kisses as he savoured the sensation. Breathing heavily, his hands worked behind her to fiddle with the laces on her corset.

She was amazed to hear him moan and felt it all the way down to her toes. She kissed his neck more firmly, sucking slightly when suddenly she felt his fingers on her corset ties. They tickled. She giggled slightly into Matthew's shoulder then reluctantly pulled her head up to look at him.

"You'll never manage like that..." Mary began, eyes widening at how different her voice sounded.

She turned round and stood a little ahead of him, moving her hair out of his way, still breathing heavily. "Try now, dearest." Her heart beat fast at the thought of what he was doing and she tried not to think too much about it.

His breath almost stopped in his chest as she turned around. He stood uselessly for a moment, before setting fully to work on undoing the myriad of laces. "I think I have a newfound respect for your lady's maid..." he murmured quietly, a smile upon his lips.

Mary's shoulders shook from the ticklish feeling of his fingers scrabbling around with the ties, but she felt strangely content to stand there half undressed just talking, for it felt pleasingly normal, even as her skin tingled just from its proximity to him.

She murmured, "I wonder... will I be needing her much in future?"

Smiling, he paused in his task to press a swift kiss to the back of her neck. "I wonder. I think we will need to see how successfully I can manage this first!" He felt oddly reassured to be talking, as though nothing out of the ordinary were occurring. Slowly, he began to make progress, growing lengths of lace tangling everywhere.

Mary tried to be patient. "Yes, how are you managing?" she said after a while. She could feel the top part a little looser but not all of it yet. She was beginning to feel just a little bit bored. Balancing slowly on one foot she put her other one backwards until it touched his ankle. She frowned in concentration and, attempting not to fall over, ran it an inch up his leg (any further being impossible).

Matthew chuckled softly against her neck, his breath tickling her skin. "I'm getting there, darling. Maybe we need not be quite so hasty in dispensing with your maid just yet."

With one more sharp pull on a lace, the top half of her corset fell significantly open. He simply stared for an entrancing moment at the beautiful expanse of Mary's back revealed to him. Pulling more eagerly now at the remaining ties with one hand, his other tenderly traced the soft skin of her back. She shivered very pleasurably at the feel of his hand on her bare skin.

The corset finally fell to the floor and Mary expelled air in a sigh feeling both free of its restraint and strangely bereft. She certainly felt more vulnerable now standing only in her drawers. She murmured very slightly satirically, "Well done, darling!"

A slight, nervous cough left his lips. Matthew stared at Mary's now completely exposed back for several moments, feeling very strange, yet not nervous any more. "Thank you, dear. I think I may need some more practise at that!" Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder and trailed kisses along her bare shoulders. Hot, heavy breaths warmed her skin under his lips. Then, he slipped a hand around her waist, trembling at the feel of her skin beneath his fingers.

"We must make sure you get it then!" Her voice trembled slightly and she was not sure she could keep up this blasé approach much longer.

He murmured against her skin, his words punctuated by soft kisses. "I think I can safely say I would not mind that at all." Taking a shuddering breath, he gently turned her to face him once more. His heart almost stopped for a moment at the sight of her, her body more breathtakingly beautiful and enticing in the moonlight than he had ever dared imagine. Holding her almost at arm's length, he allowed his eyes to roam darkly over her, heat pooling in his core as his gaze unhurriedly traced every contour of her body. Breathing shallowly, his tongue flicked across his lips.

Mary slowly raised her eyes to his and was amazed by the passion in them. She flushed from the roots of her hair all the way down her neck. Amidst the natural shyness she felt at being so exposed to him for the first time, was a feeling of awe that she could inspire such a reaction. She might not be a virgin, but under his adoring gaze she certainly felt like one. Matthew remained transfixed, hardly daring to touch her, barely able to believe that the beauty in front of his eyes was reality.

After a moment or two, Mary swallowed and lowered her eyes. She bit her lip and tentatively reached out to his bowtie, and looked up at him for permission. "I - I suppose this cannot be harder than my corset!" She tried to smile but nevertheless could not help feeling anxious, wondering if she was being too forward.

He rested his hands lightly on her waist, his lips twitching into a smile. "No, darling, I think you should manage it in infinitely less time." He sounded breathless, too enthralled to manage a normal tone of voice.

She smiled back much relieved. "Well then!" She managed the bowtie very swiftly and dropped it on the floor, following it immediately with his waistcoat. "I think you're right!"

"You never disappoint me, Mary," he whispered hoarsely, his heart pounding unbearably loud in his chest. He raised a nervous smile.

"Really? I suppose there is a first time for everything!" Her voice caught slightly at the end of this unfortunately timed jest as she turned her attention to his shirt instead, not looking at him, and fumbled with the top button.

He briefly interrupted her with a reassuring kiss before letting Mary continue working on the buttons with trembling fingers. She managed about half before stopping and glancing up at him. She needed to pull his shirt out of his trousers and she hesitated, not quite daring to do so. It seemed such a big step, especially when she could already see tantalising glimpses of bare skin appearing beneath her fingers, a little more exposed with each button.

Noticing her hesitation, he raised an eyebrow. He swiftly decided to hurry things along by tugging his shirt free himself, before raising his hands to the next button. His hands hovered over it, as he half smiled at her. "Shall I continue?"

She saw this smile as a challenge and it helped to restore some of her confidence. "I'm quite able to unbutton a shirt, Matthew!"

She did so very quickly and then paused before pushing it off his shoulders altogether. She tried to keep her eyes fixed on his face but they kept drifting downwards to the dark contours of his chest.

The shirt caught at his elbows where the sleeves were rolled. Swiftly, he tugged them lower down his arms, allowing it finally to fall to the ground.

"So you are. Very well managed, darling," he murmured deeply. With a shuddering breath he took her hands, placing them softly around his waist and stepping towards her into a wonderfully tender kiss. Mary placed her hands gingerly on his waist and for a moment kissed him only very tentatively, concentrating on the strange, new feel of his body directly under hers. Feeling more at ease now, Matthew kissed her slowly and deeply, wrapping his arms around her waist, hands roaming across her back. As her bare skin met his for the first time, a delicious shudder swept through him. Then his passion carried her along with him and she moved her hands more purposefully across his back with feather light touches. Her head was swimming.

He continued kissing her thoroughly, in part to distract himself from the fact that his thumbs were hooking into her silken drawers, beginning to slide them over her hips. He felt very, very pleasantly lightheaded.

At first Mary failed to notice what his thumbs were doing except that they were lower than they were before, for she was too intent on exploring all over his back and shoulders, her touches growing more confident as she pulled his body closer to hers. Dragging her mouth away from his, she pressed her cheek closely against his and then kissed her way back to his lips. A deep sigh of pleasure left his lips, small thrills of desire shooting right through him at her kisses. He rested one hand warmly on the hollow of her lower back as the other daringly slid her drawers far enough over her hips that they fell to the floor.

It was only thanks to the draft that Mary realised she was now completely naked apart from her shoes and stockings and she felt dreadfully embarrassed by it. She pulled back from Matthew far enough to look at him in blushing consternation and then bury her face in his neck.

Her look of alarm threw him slightly. Pulling her into a tight, warm embrace, he hugged her closely to him. "Mary, darling." As he spoke, he dropped soft kisses onto her shoulder. She closed her eyes tight and sighed, warmed by his proximity.

"You are more thrillingly beautiful than I had ever dared to imagine," Matthew continued with a slight tremor in his voice. He pulled back a fraction and tipped her chin up towards him, kissing her softly in the hope of reassuring her, his heart hammering in his chest.

Although Mary wanted nothing more than to kiss him again and remain locked in this close embrace indefinitely she was becoming aware of a strange sense of confusion at their position. She pulled away again, just enough to look at him. "Matthew…" She frowned and licked her lips as her hands continued to lightly caress his back. "Matthew, I am trying to forget but I can't help it, I'm afraid, and I don't understand and – how long are we going to be doing this before – Dearest Matthew, you – you don't have to answer!" Fearing as she spoke that her words could be taken the wrong way, she added seriously, looking at him with eyes that were dark and filled with passion, "I do trust you!"

Matthew frowned slightly at her, touching his hand to her cheek gently. "Mary, darling, we need not rush things. I know that –" He took a breath, desperately not wanting to think about her past experiences. "I know that this is different, Mary, but it's alright to just enjoy this." Panic filled him suddenly and he pulled his hand back, looking unsure. "You... You are enjoying this, aren't you?"

Her cheeks flamed and she was quite unable to answer such a question directly, though his words did go some way towards reassuring her.

"What do you think?" she replied flirtatiously and then grimaced at how out of place such words were in the situation.

He caressed her cheek again, looking almost sadly at her. "Mary. I think –" He stopped, unsure how to continue. Moving his face a little closer, he gazed deeply into her eyes. "You do trust me, don't you? Do not be coy with me, my dear; tell me plain."

Mary squeezed her eyes shut and sighed, her heart swelling. She whispered, "Oh, Matthew, what have I done to deserve you?"

She looked at him again and silenced any protest by putting a finger on his lips. "I'm not sure I can speak plainly." She thought a moment. "If a child knew he were to undergo an examination at some point in the afternoon, how would he be able to enjoy his lunch, however nice it was?" She shuddered slightly but her eyes nevertheless remained serious. "That was a rather terrible analogy, wasn't it?"

Gently, he kissed the finger on his lips and murmured against it. "It served its purpose."

He took her hand in his, allowing him to speak freely, before he sat down on the edge of the bed and drew her to sit next to him. "Darling, it troubles me to think that you should look upon this as a fearful examination! What can I do to reassure you? Tell me and I will do it."

Mary sat down carefully on the bed, feeling far more aware of being unclothed now than she was a moment ago and also feeling rather cold. She gave a little shrug as she became irritated with herself. She _had _been enjoying herself a few moments before and now she seemed to have killed the mood altogether.

"Nothing really, I expect! I - I didn't mean to compare it to an examination - I think they last a great deal longer! I would just rather like to be sure that –" she ducked her head before continuing very quickly, "that you will not die in the attempt! But I cannot be sure until - until it has been attempted!" She met his eyes ruefully again.

The apparent absurdity of her concern caused him to laugh suddenly. He swiftly stopped himself at her glare, remembering how traumatic it must have been for her. "Oh Mary! I assure you I am in perfect health and have no intention of dying in the attempt!" Smiling gently, he rubbed her hand fondly in both of his. "I am sorry, my dear, but... Well. Shall we just worry about that if it comes to it?"

"I would rather it didn't!" she replied with a shiver. "I know that it is very unlikely as other people do it all the time so I worried it might be me. But I suppose that is silly as well!"

She swallowed and looked at him again with more determination, getting fed up with herself, not to mention increasingly chilly. She took a deep breath and said in a low, intense voice, "You made me almost forget before. Could you do that again?"

Dipping his head slightly, he looked at her with eyes full of love, passion and intent. "If you will allow me to, I will certainly do my best."

He stood up again, breathing shallowly. His voice sounded, slow and level in the quiet night. "Take your shoes off, darling."

She nodded in silence, barely conscious of deciding to obey him, and reached down to unbuckle her shoes by touch, never breaking eye contact with him. She kicked them to the floor one by one.

In the interest of not allowing her any more time to think too deeply about things, Matthew swiftly removed the rest of his clothing and pushed her very gently backwards. He leant on his elbows above her, with his hair flopping into his face and she looked up at him feeling pleasantly dominated. Her heart fluttered somewhere near her throat. Leaning down, he kissed her softly, very aware of not wanting her to feel overpowered or not in control.

Mary let him kiss her, allowing the sensation to drown out her fears. She held his face between her hands and met each of his light kisses with similar ones of her own, allowing them to grow in passion. As he pressed more firmly down on her she squirmed under him, arching her back to bring her ever closer to him.

When he was finally forced to pause for breath, she ran one foot up his lower leg and back down it. "What about the stockings?" she asked against his lips, her voice coming out in a low, trembling murmur, quite different from her normal voice.

Matthew gasped sharply, his breath, when it returned, ragged and shallow. His lips parted and he gazed down at her in enthralment, his entire body on fire at the feel of her beneath him and the sound of her voice, low with arousal. Recovering himself with a nervous gulp his lips twitched mischievously, a dark sparkle in his eyes. "No… No, I think you can leave them on."

Daringly, he ran a hand enticingly up her leg. She shuddered at his touch, looked down between them both and felt a stab of desire unlike what she had felt before. She briefly pressed her eyes closed, sucking in a breath, then gently put her hand on top of his, holding it to her thigh.

An intense shiver of desire caused him to suddenly freeze. He swallowed, licking his lips nervously before lowering his head to kiss her softly again, pressing her back onto the pillows. The feeling of her being completely his was almost too much to bear, and he lost all power to think coherently. His actions were no longer conscious; every touch and kiss a result of raw instinct. He relished every new sensation immensely. Scintillatingly, he kissed his way down her front, his lips and tongue leaving a wet trail across her skin until he reached her belly, before working his way back up to her lips.

Mary was finding it easier than expected to forget when he kissed her over and over again in places she had not even imagined she could be kissed. She gasped at every single one, her breaths coming more and more rapidly as he worked his way back up her body until her moan was lost in his mouth. One hand fell limply beside her and fisted into the bed clothes with an iron grip, her one allowance to a most pleasurable terror and anticipation, while her other went to his head and tangled in his hair, grazing his scalp.

Matthew lost himself completely in her then, letting his heady desires take over any rational thought. Tenderly and sweetly, he made love to her, lovingly exploring her body and placing soft kisses all across her skin. Finally, he reached a blissful, shuddering climax and collapsed in exhausted pleasure slightly beside her, with one arm draped tenderly across her stomach. His entire body continued to twitch and tremble gently as he drew in deep, shaking breaths.

Mary stared up at the ceiling still breathing heavily, only slightly relaxing her grip on his hair. She gently loosened her clutch on the sheets and intertwined her fingers with his. After a long while, she looked at his prone form and murmured in mingled tones of wonder and self-mockery, "You didn't die, my love..."

Having managed at last to calm his breathing to a more regular rhythm, Matthew's eyes fluttered open at her, smiling sweetly (albeit awkwardly) from where his face was planted in the soft pillows. He felt utterly languid and relaxed. "No, darling, it would appear not... I told you I wouldn't."

He let his eyes flutter closed again, but gently tickled her belly with a free finger. She giggled a little and curled up on her side, looking at him out of half closed eyes very fondly, unable to find him at all ridiculous even in that position. "You did! I shall not doubt you in future." She pulled very gently on the strand of hair she was stroking.

Opening his eyes again, he gently swept away the hair that had fallen around her face, tucking it behind her ear then leaving his hand resting gently on her cheek. "I'm glad that I was able to honour my words!" He propped himself up on one elbow, looking fondly at her. "Mary... I hope that you have been quite recovered of your fears now."

She turned her head to press a kiss to his palm. "Yes, I think so." Feeling deliciously warm all over, she smiled mischievously. "Well, perhaps not entirely! You might have to remind me of how little there is to fear!"

Matthew grinned, trying to hold back a slight snigger. "I would be happy to remind you, darling. In any case, I am in desperate need of familiarising myself with the removal of your undergarments, so more practise will be required! They are quite alien to me, I'm afraid. And I shouldn't like anything to do with you to be alien to me."

Mary laughed softly again at his response and the fact that he was actually able to articulate it. "Perhaps not your most finely expressed sentiments, dearest, but I am nevertheless glad to hear you say so!"

She shivered a little as the heat she was feeling began to subside and looked him over speculatively. "Get up a moment, Matthew!"

He frowned slightly, a little confused. "I'm really far too comfortable..." he muttered, before reluctantly rolling off and standing up.

Mary slid under the bedclothes and looked up at him, blushing at the view but too languid to be embarrassed by it. "You'd be more comfortable now!" She had a sudden thought. "Unless... you'd rather I went elsewhere?" She realised she had no idea if she even had her own room or where it was. She did not really want to leave and could not really imagine doing so but she was aware it was probably the custom at this point.

Matthew's eyebrows rose sharply in disbelief. "Why on earth would I rather you went elsewhere?" He shook his head incredulously; he really could not understand her sometimes. Sliding under the covers, he took her into her arms, lying with his nose to hers. A fond, determined glare crossed his face. "You shall very well stay here, Mary. Unless... you wish to be elsewhere?"

She slipped her arms round him happily and kissed him. "No, there is nowhere else I want to be!" This did not seem the time to bring up her education in the ways of married couples or to ask if she even had her own room – she certainly had no desire for it at present.

His eyes drifted closed as he kissed her joyfully back, allowing it to deepen for a moment. Really, though, he felt far too contentedly lethargic for that now. "I am glad to hear that, for I would not wish you to be anywhere else either."

He let his top hand drape softly over her neck, idly curling her hair between his fingers. Mary thought that she would be happy to spend the rest of her life like this and after a little pause said drowsily, "Matthew... I think I am perfectly happy..." She kissed him gently again.

He gladly let her kiss him, before settling back into the pillow, gazing at her in wonder. "I'm glad that you are, darling," he murmured quietly. "That's all I'd ever want."

She smiled languidly at him. "And you, Matthew?" She tangled her fingers in his hair again and bumped her forehead against his very gently, feeling extraordinarily relaxed and tired as the day began to catch up with her. "Are you happy?" She knew he was but wanted to ask anyway.

Affectionately, he rubbed his nose against hers, smiling lazily as his eyes drifted closed. His thumb rubbed distractedly across her cheek. "Of course..." He kissed her nose fondly, without opening his eyes. "I don't think I could possibly be happier, darling Mary," he whispered as he tucked his arm snugly around her waist.

She shifted closer and intertwined her legs with his, issues of modesty having completely disappeared in the warm desire simply to be as close as she could to him. She found his hand between them and laced her fingers with his. Her eyes closed and she tucked her head under his chin.

"Darling, I think I'd like to sleep now; it must be very late..."

He smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to the top of her head, very much enjoying the feel of her lying warm against him. Sleepily, he murmured, "I've lost all track of time, dear, but I think you might be right." Squeezing her hand gently, he snuggled closer against her. "Darling, I think I'd like to sleep in this manner for the rest of my life. I can imagine nothing quite more perfect…"

His voice came out as little more than a barely comprehensible, sleepy mumble. And then, utterly content with his wife tucked warmly against his chest, and his arms around her, he drifted off to sleep.

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><p><em>AN: Well, there you have it- hope you enjoyed it! There may be an epilogue eventually... when we've written it... :)_


	3. Epilogue

_A/N: So, months later we FINALLY finish this epilogue as promised! Wooooo! We should say that in the meantime we've written a lot of smut. And we mean a lot. (Castle AU: coming probably-not-soon to a paper bag near you...) Last chapter was innocent. This... really isn't. You have been warned!_

_Having said that, enjoy! Let it be a fluffy and happy and romantic balm to all this S02 angst! :)_

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><p><strong>EPILOGUE<strong>

Mary woke to total silence. She could feel warm sun on her face and resisted opening her eyes to it; she felt so relaxed and comfortable. Shifting her legs slightly, she brushed against something: a foot. Matthew's foot. She pressed her eyes more tightly shut even as her lips curved into a happy smile. Then she became aware of other sensations. That she was completely naked in bed, which never happened. That his hand rested possessively on her hip. That she could feel his steady, deep breathing rustling the hairs on the back of her neck. Memories came back too, of sighs and moans in the dark and the touch of skin on skin. She felt a fluttery heat flare up in the pit of her stomach at the recollection of the previous night and she shifted a little more, rolling onto her back, her husband's hand now lying across her stomach.

She opened her eyes now and stared at the unfamiliar ceiling, seeing her new room for the first time in daylight. It was smaller to her room at home – at Downton rather – but less cavernous, more cheerful. She felt she could get used to that. Her gaze trailed down from the ceiling to the walls, the furniture and the windows with the shut curtains, through the gap in which a steady stream of sunlight passed illuminating the dust motes in the air and landing finally on the bed. She turned her head and drew in a breath.

Matthew slept soundly. His mouth was slightly open and his face was completely relaxed. Mary leaned up on one elbow and traced all his features with his eyes with breathless concentration, relishing this private moment to observe him. She almost touched him to repeat her journey across across his face with her fingers but held back at the last minute. She did not want to wake him. She looked below his face to the slight stubble on his chin that had appeared overnight and at his exposed neck and the one shoulder and top of his torso that was visible over the sheets, taking in their precise colour and the shaping of his skin, seemingly both unfamiliar and achingly familiar.

She felt she ought to feel embarrassed at this point, remembering what they had done, but she was not. It was amazing really how quickly human nature accepted a change in situation. Mary felt far too peaceful and content to consider embarrassment. She sighed happily and lay back down, wondering vaguely what time it was and when she – no, _they –_ would be brought tea. Mary did blush at the thoughts that conjured up and she shook her head with a smile. Dear Matthew. Then, as she realised that there were no servants about and no tea would be forthcoming, she had an idea. Before she could change her mind and pick flaws in her plan, she swung herself silently out of bed and stood up. She shivered and looked around for something to wrap herself in. She was then strangely moved to see her own silk dressing gown already unpacked and hanging on a hook on the door, next to Matthew's, and her slippers neatly placed next to his in front of the chest of drawers. She paused in the middle of the room to admire this cosy, domestic arrangement. It felt foolish to be so touched by the sight of two pairs of slippers, but she was, and she could not care. Then she almost tripped over her corset, abandoned on the floor and her hand went to cover her mouth as she remembered. Her cheeks flared with colour. Was everybody's wedding night like hers? She could not imagine it was though frankly she would rather not think about the intimate details of any body else's marriage in that way.

She stepped over her corset and Matthew's tie and jacket, pulled the dressing gown round herself and stepped into her slippers. At the door she hesitated and looked back at the bed. Still Matthew slept soundly. An ache of love rose up in her that was almost painful and she returned to his side, leaned down and softly pressed her lips to his before she knew what she doing. Then, before she lost her nerve, she left the room and quietly closed the door behind her.

Mary found her way to the kitchen easily enough and could not understand why the layout of the house had been a problem the previous night. She cast her eyes round it in the daylight. What had Matthew done? She padded to the range where the kettle still stood on the hobs. She picked it up, surprised at how heavy it was. She emptied it into a bucket by the sink and her eye fell on the neatly marked tea jar on the shelf above. How many bags? She really had no idea, nor whether she should remove the tea from the bag first. She shrugged, put three in the kettle and then added water and waited for it to boil on the hob, relighting it with the match left out from the previous night, and only narrowly escaping burning her fingers.

While it boiled, she found two clean cups and saucers and placed them on a tray. What to do about milk? After looking in a few obvious places and failing to find any, she saw the jug lying on its side on the table where they had knocked it the previous evening. There was a splash of milk on the table but the jug's rim was curved and when she picked it up there was still a little left. She poured half into one cup and half into the other. It was not really enough but she hoped it would do. It would have to for she could find no other milk. She removed the boiled tea from the heat and wondered how long she ought to leave it before pouring. She sighed and leaned against the table. Matthew had made it seem so simple! Mary did so much want to do this for him.

She strolled to the kitchen door that looked out onto the back garden. She could not find a key to open it but she amused herself with peering out for several minutes and watching a blackbird peck at the grass. Once it had flown away she considered that the tea must surely have steeped for long enough and she poured it out into the two cups, gripping the heavy kettle with both hands and clenching her jaw as a little spilled onto one of the saucers. Well, she would have that one.

It looked rather dark, Mary reflected dubiously, and smelled quite powerful. Perhaps she had let it brew for too long. It was a great shame there was not more milk! Still, all the more reason to take it to him quickly before it got cold as well.

She picked up the tray and walked towards the door very slowly, unused to carry anything of this sort. Then she realised she would need to put the tray down to open the door and was obliged to return to the table, open the door and then start again. It was very frustrating. Navigating the corridor and the stairs seemed to take hours of frowning concentration and by the time she reached the bedroom door again, quite a considerable amount of the tea had sploshed out onto the saucers and tray. Still, she did not give up, and rested the tray on the chest in the hall as she gently opened the door, picked up the tray again, pushed the door completely open with her foot and plastered a hopeful smile onto her face in case he had woken up in her absence.

Matthew awoke naturally, and peacefully. He felt utterly and wonderfully lethargic. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open, and he looked slowly around him, blinking the sleep from his eyes. Something felt different, but he was not quite sure what... Pushing himself up slightly, he saw that the pillow next to him lay dinted and flattened, as if... His eyes drifted closed as he remembered. Sitting up a little more, his eyes widened as he saw their clothes scattered with abandon upon the floor. His breath caught in his throat as he began to remember more vividly. But... A gentle frown crossed his face. Where was she? He was sure he remembered falling asleep with her curled against him, and he thought he could remember a kiss.. Or had he dreamed that? He passed his hand over his face, rubbing his eyes gently. He felt suddenly very alone; strange, considering that he had woken up alone every morning of his life prior to now. But now, he missed her. Why had she left? Before his thoughts could trouble him any more, the door suddenly swung open, and his eyes snapped up. Standing in the doorway, with an overly bright smile on her face was Mary with... a tray. Of what looked like tea! His face lit up. Smiling luxuriantly, he allowed his eyes to wander over her, enchanted by her loose hair, curled and tumbling over her shoulders, and the way her silken gown fluttered over her body. He shuddered a little as he recalled just how that body had felt, writhing softly beneath him. He cleared his throat slightly.

"Good morning," he said, almost shyly.

He was awake. Very awake. And sitting up so that his entire bare chest was presented to her view, the bedclothes having fallen away from him. Mary's lips parted slightly at the sight of how broad it was, and the light fair hairs over it, and the memory of what it felt like beneath her hands. She found herself breathing more quickly and her hands began to tremble so that the tea cups rattled against their saucers. When he spoke, however, her eyes raised immediately to meet his and she felt colour flood her cheeks. She swallowed.

"Good morning, Matthew," she said in a matter of fact tone to try to conceal his effect on her and immediately turned away to put down the tray. She picked up the two cups, wishing her hands would steady themselves and walked back to the bed. She dared to meet his eyes again and was forced to stop by the power of his gaze on her.

She licked her lips and then said more nervously, "Mrs. Bird is not here so... so I made tea."

As she made her way over to the bed and stood nervously by it, Matthew smiled at her in utter adoration.

"Oh Mary, you darling," he said softly. "How thoughtful of you! Here."

He shuffled backwards quickly against the pillows, ready to take the tea from her. To his consternation, his haste caused the sheets to fall away even more, exposing him entirely to her view, and he blushed furiously as he clutched them back up around his waist. He stared at her in mild embarrassment, his lips parted slightly. It took a moment for him to realise that really – considering what they had done together, what they had shared – embarrassment seemed rather a silly thing to feel. Still, though, he was very aware that last night it had been _dark_, and they had been rather too occupied to actually have _seen_ all that much… Coughing slightly, and having made sure that the sheets were secure, he held his hands out.

"Pass the cups to me so you can sit down. Thank you, darling."

Mary stared, her eyes widening and one of the cups of tea tilting dangerously to one side as she forgot to pay attention to what she was doing. Her heart began to beat faster and she shifted from one foot to another as desire began to coil in her belly again. Then he covered himself again and she blushed even harder and quickly handed over a half full cup of murky, luke warm tea, splashing a little more onto the blanket as she did so, before sitting on her side of the bed, putting her cup down on bedside table and leaning back against the pillow next to him. She looked at him hopefully, her cheeks still red.

"I hope it is not too bad. I am afraid you have much more practice than I do in making tea!"

Matthew's eyes shifted between her and the cup of distinctly unappetising tea in his hands. He felt very aware of her eyes upon him. He stared at it a moment longer, licking his lips nervously.

"I'm sure it will be just the thing!" he murmured cheerfully.

Tentatively, he raised the cup to his lips as more tea dripped from the bottom of it. He paused - yes, she was still watching him nervously. He smiled reassuringly at her before taking a sip. As soon as it passed his lips, he knew it was bad. In fact, it was possibly the worst cup of tea he'd tasted in his life. His eyes closed, and he held it in his mouth for a second, not quite daring to swallow yet. Eventually he forced himself to, and desperately held back a grimace as the strong, lukewarm liquid trickled down his throat. He blinked several times, licking his lips again before turning his head to look at her, determinedly plastering a smile to his face.

"It was - so kind of you to think of, Mary!"

He desperately wondered if he really had to drink the rest of it. She was looking so hopefully at him... He took a deep breath, before taking the entire lot in one, abominable swig - well, there was only half a cup there. He gasped as he swallowed it, placing the cup and saucer down on the bedside cabinet with a trembling hands causing the china to rattle before turning back to her.

"Thank you!"

His lips twitched with the effort of maintaining a smile as he was terribly aware of the pugnent taste in his mouth. Where on earth had she found that milk?

Mary watched him with increasing worry. She knew him well enough to know when he was faking enthusiasm and his smile was definitely strained. She met it with an apologetic one of her own.

"I'm afraid you think it was terrible! Was it really that bad?"

Without waiting for a reply she picked up her own cup (it really did look terrible) and raised it to her lips. She took a tentative sip and almost spat it out. She hastily replaced the cup and wiped her hand across her mouth as she forced herself to swallow.

"Pah!" she exclaimed in a very unladylike fashion and turned to him in horror and shame. "Oh, Matthew, dearest Matthew, how dreadful! Whyever did you drink it?" She placed a hand on his upper arm as she spoke. "I'm truly sorry. I shouldn't have bothered."

Her seeming horror at her own tea spurred an enormous burst of affection in Matthew, and he couldn't help a broad smile. He rubbed her hand on his arm softly in apology.

"I'll be honest my love, I've had better cups of tea in my time. But, it was still very, very good of you to go to the trouble of making it!" He leaned forward and kissed her gently. "Thank you, I mean it."

It was the first time he had kissed her in daylight since - She closed her eyes and leaned into it, cupping his face and gently stroking his cheek with her thumb. She made no effort to deepen the kiss, however, revelling in the simple fact of their being there, together, and being able to do this. She was also very sorry about the tea.

Matthew felt such an exquisite _happiness _at the simple intimacy of their situation that he actually chuckled against her lips, a tiny laugh of delight. He suddenly felt very, very aware of the fact that he was entirely naked, sitting in bed with his absolutely adored wife beside him, indulging in soft, sweet kisses. And in that moment he no longer cared about his undressed state, felt no shame; for they were _happy, _and it was _right_. He drew back to look at her, feeling a strange sense of privilege at the license to see her like this – sleep-ruffled, untidy, undressed, not made up or preened or polished yet as everyone else saw her – and she had never seemed more beautiful. It was almost enough to rid her terrible attempt at tea from his memory. Almost...

Mary leaned back against her pillow, looking deeply at him as her thumb continued its gentle caress. Her eyes softened with affection and she enjoyed knowing that he was watching her too. Finally she sighed gently.

"I wish I had not left you this morning, and so unproductively too."

His smile dropped the smallest fraction as he looked down, studying the sheets somewhere between them. His hand rested lightly on her thigh, and he gave a soft, reassuring squeeze as he spoke. "Well. The thought was there, darling. I do appreciate that." He looked up at her again, raising an eyebrow. "Perhaps it would be best to leave it to Mrs. Bird in future, then I can savour the pleasure of my tea as well as waking up next to my wife.." His lips twitched gently into a fond smile. "I expect it sounds terribly silly, but - I missed you when I woke!"

She saw the effort he was making and bit her lip while he wasn't looking. A few strands of hair tumbled over her shoulders and her stomach flipped as he squeezed her thigh at the great intimacy of it. She raised her eyes to his again.

"Then in future Mrs. Bird shall manage the tea and I - I shall have you!"

Her eyes darkened and she leaned forward and kissed him with more intent, tugging his shoulder a little closer towards her. Perhaps she could make it up to him.

Matthew's eyebrows rose sharply at her sudden determination, and he fell willingly against her. He threw his hands up against the bedhead to steady himself. Feeling more stable now, he kissed her back more firmly, smiling against her lips, his pulse quickening.

The feeling of Matthew's sudden submission to her was delicious and fueled her growing desire. She shifted a little in order to sit up more comfortably and put both her arms round him, tracing patterns on his bare back as she pulled him as close to her as she could in this position.

His sigh of delight was lost in her mouth, and he found himself gripping the bedhead a little tighter. His head swam with desire; he didn't know what had happened to the sheets protecting his modesty as he had twisted to face her, shifting pleasurably - but he realised, with a little tremor, that he absolutely didn't care. He dropped one hand to curl around the back of her head, his fingers delving and twisting into her hair as he held her to him.

In the cool light of day Mary felt even greater tremours of pleasure at knowing what she was doing and not having half her mind paralysed with nerves and fear. Instead she only felt love, pleasure and a hopeful anticipation. Pamuk was dead for good. With a little mew as his hands tangled in her loose hair, she slid her hands round from his back to his chest and gave it a slight push.

Matthew gasped sharply as he fell backwards. His legs were twisted uncomfortably under him and he quickly untangled them, til he was lying back propped up on his elbows. His lips curled into a sly smile of anticipation, his breath coming in shallow pants as he looked breathlessly up at her.

Mary lent over him, breathing quickly, and returned his smile with one equally as mischievous. Much as she was starting to enjoy relinquishing her power to him, it was not something she was used to and somehow this felt more natural. Her long hair tickled his chest and she rest her palms flat against it, feeling to her delight the way his heart beat rapidly under them. She leaned further forward, the dressing gown gaping for the ties had loosened since she had returned to bed, and pressed a kiss to his lips.

"I think," she murmured against them, "that I shall not make any more tea. It is not one of my talents!"

Everything about her was making him feel utterly, wonderfully delirious. The morning sunlight bathed her, giving her almost the vision of a halo as she leaned against him, and he swallowed hard as his eyes roved hungrily over her. He groaned as she kissed him, her breath as she spoke tickling his lips.

"No!" he gasped. "I - I think you have vastly superior skills in other areas!"

Trembling with the delight of their intimacy, more knowing and confident this time, he raised his hands as much as he was able and slipped them around her bare waist, pushing aside her dressing gown. He let out a soft, appreciative moan as her body was revealed to him for the first time in proper light. He let himself fall onto his back as he wrapped his arms fully around her waist, dragging her down on top of him, kissing her fiercely and shuddering at the feel of her skin against his.

Mary collapsed on top of him, her legs automatically tangling with his and shivering at the feel of bare skin touching bare skin. More intoxicating even than that was the sight of him when she pulled back to raised herself on her elbows: hair mussed, eyes dark, lips parted and swollen from her kisses. He looked completely undone and lethargic and her eyes softened momentarily. Her husband. And this morning he really _was_ her husband in a way he had not been last night. She felt a sudden burst of heat pass through her at the recollection of all that they had done and she gradually lowered herself back over him, sliding her hands up to frame his face and slip into his hair. She hesitated an inch over his lips, their warm breaths mingling, and then she smiled happily into his eyes and kissed him firmly, slowly exploring his mouth, tasting and relearning him in the morning. Her hands cupped his face completely and stroked over his cheeks and hair and eyes, mirroring the rhythm of her moments against his mouth.

As his eyes drifted heavily closed, Matthew's head began to swim. He felt himself slipping, sliding into delirium at the combination of her weight, her warmth pressing down on him, her deep, searching kiss, her hands on his face. He wanted so much to keep his head, to grasp every movement and sensation and treasure it but he was fast sinking into a blissful, heady whirl of pure sensation, only heightened by the soaring, pounding love in his heart. As he responded to her kiss in kind, tentatively flicking his tongue past her lips then deeper, firmer, searching hers, his hands deliberately rose and pushed the flimsy silk of her dressing gown over her shoulders, bunching it in his hand as he slid it down her back, baring her to him, shifting pleasurably under her as he did so.

Mary sighed, opening her mouth to him and wriggled a little over him as the dressing gown was discarded. In the back of her mind was the realisation that they were both completely naked and that it was light. She was almost surprised that her reaction to this was only to squirm with even more heady intent against him, as if her movements could appease the growing ache.

Now that she was entirely uncovered - though really it was only a slight difference, it felt so important, so vital - Matthew expelled a long, low groan of contentment and pleasure from deep within his chest that was lost somewhere between their open mouths, lips and tongues sliding against each other over and over. He wrapped his arms tight around her, feeling her heart race against him, burning at every point their skin was pressed together... It seemed all-encompassing.

Her head swam. Every point of contact between them seemed to prickle and spark and every time he moved his hand over her back it left a trail of heat causing her to arch into him. Her mouth slipped from his lips and she kissed its corner before moving across his face, wet, hot kisses that were almost licks, before she settled on his neck, on the point just above his collar bone. There was something about being able to show her love for him in this way, her love and her apology for his awakening this morning that was more potent than anything she could have imagined. Adventurously, she gave his neck a little suck and felt his pulse jump out under her.

Matthew gasped as her mouth scorched across his skin. Everything within him tingled, pulsed, cried out for more. His hands that had been pressing warmly all over her slender back now gripped a little tighter, nails digging into her marble skin slightly as the strength of his passion swept him away. He rolled suddenly, taking her with him until he was pressing down on her from above.

Mary gasped loudly as first she felt his nails on her back, not as painful as it should have been, and then she found herself on her back, underneath him. Her heart began to pound even harder. It felt so _right_. Her eyes shot open and met his.

"Matthew!" she cried with a shaky laugh in surprise at his actions. She loved him so much in that moment. She could not conceive how much.

At her soft exclamation, Matthew gazed at her, his hair a mess and his eyes wide and blinking, as though he were not quite sure what he had done. He smiled shakily, breathless.

"Oh! Sorry, I... Oh my darling, I love you."

His voice was low and husky with arousal. And then his eyes clouded over, flickered down and he kissed her again, lips attaching firmly to her neck as he began to shift and writhe against her. He wanted her; more than that he needed her, his body craved her in every part with a strength that denied belief. Again, he murmured, "I love you," his breath and lips hot against her damp skin.

As he spoke, her hand clasped his face again, stroked his cheek with wordless reciprocation. Then, as he began to kiss her neck and explore her, she tilted her head back, glad of the softness of the pillow. She stared up at the canopy of the bed, its patterns somehow merging with the patterns of his hands on her body, even as her own fingers tangled in his hair and skimmed over his shoulders and upper back, roaming restlessly. Her need for him was growing, ever increasing, and it was hard to lie still. She recognized the feelings now, what she had felt last night before he had – She ran one foot along his leg, eventually hooking hers over his, trying constantly for a greater closeness and intimacy.

As Matthew's desire intensified, his hands began to search her naked torso, learning her in the golden glow of daylight. He marvelled in breathless delight as his palms grazed the smooth, tight skin of her abdomen, the gentle curve of her breasts, soft and yielding under his touch... He awkwardly bent his head and watched as his hand travelled over her, skimming every contour. He couldn't... It was too much. A fire burnt within him, arousal so strong that he ached, a dull, pulsing throb that only grew with every passing moment. Her breathing became heavier and more laboured the more attentions he paid to her till her breaths were more gasps than anything else.

After pressing a hard, searing kiss to her lips, Matthew raised his eyes desperately, filled with love and longing, to hers.

"Mary, my love… Please... Are you - can I?"

When he spoke, she lowered her eyes with drugged heaviness to his and smiled suddenly, brightly at his concern and how utterly unnecessary it was. But she liked it that he asked. She reached out for his hand and threaded their fingers together before bringing their joined hands back down to her side.

"I.." Her voice was a husky shadow of its usual, controlled self.

"Dearest Matthew... Am I not your wife?" she managed to say and her lips twitched affectionately, before she raised her head slightly off the pillow to press her lips again against his.

Matthew's eyes fluttered closed a moment as she kissed him softly, so tenderly, a beautiful contrast in rhythm to what their bodies were aching to do.

"Yes," he chuckled fondly, allowing his mind to hold and treasure that thought and all that it signified. "Yes, you are..."

With his fingers threaded through hers he grasped her sides, softly caressing even as he gripped to steady himself. It still felt too intimate, too wonderful... He kissed her again, drinking her in, savouring the taste and the pressure of her lips as he positioned himself over her and finally, finally… eased into her tight warmth, moaning softly into her mouth as he did so. Now, her body was no longer foreign to him... It was deliciously familiar; and he started at once to move gently within her, more sure than last night, more certain.

Last night had been a blur. She felt so much more aware of everything now. She could feel every movement, every tingling, jarring sensation and welcomed it, moving in response to meet every thrust from him. The heat built up between them and Mary hooked her free arm round his neck and pulled his head down, burying her face in his neck and muffling her gasps that were turning into deeper, more heartfelt moans in his skin.

Matthew allowed himself to be held and pulled down by her, teeth grazing her shoulder has he sank into the glorious sea of sensation. Slowly at first, he tried, tested, explored; shifting his hips at different angles and different speeds and gasping in pleasure at every single movement. His hands stroked tenderly over her face as he found their rhythm, building into it, always building... Gradually, lost in the heady bliss of it, his pace increased from his hips shifting, to rocking, to thrusting, to pounding, until he was lost in a dizzying whirlpool of pleasure that reached every inch of him. At every slam of his hips a grunted gasp tore from his lips, building in volume, everything building, drowning him in the utter and overwhelming intoxication of it.

Mary responded as she had not done, could not have done the night before. What had been mews then were now moans. Her hands roamed all over his body, caressing, squeezing, her nails digging into his back as her hips lifted fearlessly to meet him. It was natural, right that it should be so. There was no shame, no disgrace, only him and her, husband and wife making love to each other. The force of his thrusts lifted her back almost off the bed and she bit down on his shoulder with more force as she felt all her limbs gripped by an almost unbearable tension. She shook uncontrollably under him, her eyes squeezed shut. She could not even tell whether what she was feeling was pain or the most exquisite pleasure.

A raw yelp tore from Matthew's throat as her teeth sunk into his shoulder, louder than he would have dared had he even been thinking about it at all. To cry out, such, though; to give voice to their passion and make it known, only seemed to heighten the depth of intimacy between them. Nothing would he hold back from her, it was not to be ashamed of, and as he thrust into her again, feeling her buckle and shake under him at the force of it, he cried out again. His wife, his beautiful, pulsing wife was under him and he suddenly wanted to see her. Maintaining with difficulty the hard rock of his hips against her, he somehow managed to push himself up a little higher onto his hands and looked down at her. Her eyes were tight shut and her mouth open - almost a look of pain, except he knew that it wasn't - her entire body shook with his force, and it was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen. He groaned as he tried to maintain himself, tried to watch her still in her ecstasy that he knew he had caused, but his arms were trembling with the effort of it.

Mary had not thought that anything could increase the tension within her, but the sound of Matthew's gutteral cries made her shaking turn to spasms and as he pulled his head away from her suddenly she opened her eyes wide as her breath caught in her throat. He was looking down at her, his blue eyes clouded and dark and piercing straight to her soul. Overwhelmed by pure feeling and love she stared deeply at him as for a moment everything seemed to stop, including her own heartbeat before with a wordless cry of her own ripped from her throat she convulsed around him, her arms locking round him.

The sight of her beneath him, the intensity with which her eyes met his, her instinctive cry of pleasure and the way every part of her suddenly tightened around him threw Matthew hurtling over the edge of ecstasy. His whole body shuddered and jerked, and he bent his head, gritted his teeth, tried desperately to cling on to some semblance of control but he was lost in her. Every thread of coiled tension deep within him was releasing in shuddering waves and he suddenly lost all strength in his muscles, collapsing delightedly into her arms.

It seemed to last for so long - him and her - and them - all fragmenting and disjoining into bliss. She could make no rational sense of it. Finally, several moments (seconds? minutes? hours?) later she opened her eyes again, limp, hot, heavy, spent. His face was buried in her shoulder and she slowly uncramped her arms from round his back and tremblingly smoothed his skin in wonderment. She was not quite sure what had happened.

As she slowly uncurled from him, Matthew grinned lazily into her shoulder. He could feel a warm flush spread all through his body. Somehow – incredible though it seemed – he felt an even fuller satisfaction than he had the night before, even though at the time he could never have comprehended that it could possibly be better. It was a glorious feeling. He pressed his lips to her shoulder, then pushed himself up a little to look at her, trembling slightly with the effort. Her cheeks were flushed pink, her eyes barely focussed… Never had she looked so beautiful.

Mary shuddered helplessly again as he kissed her shoulder and tried to meet his eyes. He loomed above her. He was her everything and she could not even care about the enormity of her adoration for him. She reached one leaden hand to trace along his cheek before it fell again to her side. It was an effort even to smile but she tried anyway, a fluttering, trembling upwards turn of her lips.

Her faint trace of a smile, so utterly endearing after… what they had just done, filled Matthew with such an overwhelming ache of love that there was nothing he could do but kiss her; a deep, languid kiss that pervaded every sense. His thumb stroked idly over her hot cheek, and he smiled against her lips. "I love you very, very much, you know…" he murmured softly.

She closed her eyes again and sank into his kiss though she was too lethargic to do anything more than simply press her lips back against his.

"Dearest..." she breathed against his mouth in response, hardly even vocalising the words.

He leaned back a little, eyes sparkling with affection as he smiled fondly at her utterly undone state. "Mm?" he prompted, tracing his finger over her lips and gazing at how they wrinkled softly with the pressure of his touch.

He was swimming into focus now and she smiled back at him and licked her lips, gently nipping at his finger, before trying to form more coherent words. There was only one idea was in her head and it was several delirious moments later, after stroking his back, smiling tenderly and eventually allowing her heartbeat to slow back to normal that she was able to speak with a spark in her eyes.

"We have..." She slid her hand up his back to tangle in his damp hair again. "We have the rest of our lives!"

She felt she had only just realised it. This was the beginning. They would be together, they could do _this_ every day for the rest of their lives! She could not get her head round the prospect of so much happiness.

A slow, delicious smile crept over his face as her words sunk in. His heart, which had just about calmed, started to thud again in his chest as he considered a lifetime of mornings with Mary. A lifetime of mornings, evenings, nights, in which they could do as they pleased without shame or fear... She was so entirely his, would always be his, and he would be hers.

"What a lovely thought," was all he could eventually manage.

Feeling had properly returned now and she was able to run one foot gently up and down his leg, relishing the wonderful opportunity to do so. All her earlier insecurity and shyness had disappeared. She felt more completely his wife than she had done at any point until now. Smiling (she could not help it) more mischievously at his understated response, she murmured, "I love you," her eyes saying it far more eloquently than any words.

Matthew's heart leapt in his chest at her words. He knew it, of course, how on earth could he doubt it now, if ever he had! But she was so rarely outright with it, that when she was, he treasured it all the more. He gazed at her, meeting the depth in her eyes, for what felt like an eternity. They had their whole lives, years and decades of this and each other to look forward to... But, more immediately, they had today. Their first day of marriage. What a wonderful thought, it was. He brushed his finger affectionately over her nose, and shifted his weight off to her side, keeping an arm warmly over her stomach.

"What shall we do today, darling?"

She curled into him, already missing that more profound closeness. She tucked her hands between them and let her fingers lightly play on his chest. She laughed softly but raising her eyes darkly to his replied, "What shall we do... why, Matthew, what do you suppose it is customary for a recently married couple to do the day after their wedding?"

Matthew chuckled deeply, and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"I think, my dear, that we can do whatever at all we like - therein lying the beauty of marriage - don't you think?" As he spoke, his fingers traced idle circles over her waist and hips.

"Well, I have always enjoyed doing what I want!"

She shivered at the feel of his touch on her pleasantly warm and glowing skin. She felt so _good_. She smoothed her hand up and down his chest - she could not stop touching him!

Matthew couldn't help a sharp intake of breath as her palm skimmed over his torso. His fingers tightened on her waist, and he shifted even closer, until they lay nose to nose. He loved being this close to her. His eyes glinted darkly.

"I think I shall enjoy you doing what you want, too, darling..."

He kissed her, then twisted around to look at the clock on the bedside cabinet. It was later than he'd thought, and the teacup sitting beside the clock reminded him sharply of what he had missed that morning (though he certainly could not complain at the manner of rousing himself he'd discovered in its stead!). He rolled back to Mary, and leant up on his elbow, grinning affectionately.

"As for what I want - before anything else, Mary dear, I'm afraid I must insist on a proper cup of tea!"

Her cheeks flamed but she only smiled ruefully.

"Oh, my darling."

Then she leaned up on her elbow opposite him and tilted her head to one side as she asked with a kind of demure mischief, "Perhaps this time I will watch you with greater attention while you make it!"

His breath caught slightly as she looked at him, and murmured, "I think perhaps you should..."

With a contented sigh he rose to his feet, and held out his hand to assist Mary up. After taking a moment to wrap his arms warmly around her in a brief embrace, he crossed the room to where his dressing gown hung on the back of the door, blushing as he felt her gaze on his back. He was going to make tea for himself and his wife. Mary. Taking into account how they had already passed the morning so far... That, followed by a _decent_ cup of tea, seemed a quite perfect way to begin married life.

**THE END**

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><p><em>MATTHEWMARY/TEA OT3. That is all. _

_We'd love to hear your comments if you enjoyed it. :)_

_Silvestria & OrangeShipper_


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